


Breathe

by Dramance



Series: Summer ZADR Week 2020 [2]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Dib is a teenager, Dysphoria, Fluff with a side of angst, M/M, Trans Dib (Invader Zim), ZaDr, ZaDr Week, the usual banter between these two, we’re at the beach today
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24879700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dramance/pseuds/Dramance
Summary: Dib’s 8th grade class is treated to a day at the beach, but Dib finds himself very uncomfortable with dysphoria and a green alien bothering him.
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Series: Summer ZADR Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798774
Comments: 10
Kudos: 120





	Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Theme: beach day

A gentle breeze fluttered over Dib’s face as he exited the hot bus, being the last off due to the rambunctious others who raced off first. He didn’t mind, though; actually, he preferred it that way. It meant that no one was watching him as he stuck as close to the sand dunes as possible. He was still bewildered that their cheap skool could even afford a beach trip for his 8th grade class, but here he stood looking over the pale sand and dark waters, both of which were equally occupied by other people in his class and by random guests.

He sighed as he unfolded his umbrella and set his towel down in the pitiful shade in an attempt to help himself cool off. His eyes wandered over the rolling waves, the water crashing and churning as it came over the sand; it roared in his ears. He stared off at the ocean and his classmates pulling their shirts and pants off to go splash around in the water. He hugged his knees to his chest as he watched them with dejection. It’s not that he hated his classmates—well, that was something up for debate, but he could at least say that he didn’t like them—but he always felt like an outcast around them. He could only erase the word “freak” from his desk so many times before he realized how pointless it was to show that it didn’t bother him. It didn’t bother him. They were ignorant, not him. He was the better person, not them. For the sake of the human race, that’s how he had to think.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes before hesitantly peering down his shirt. His binder was snug around his chest, comfortable enough for him to breathe, but tight enough to constantly remind him that it was there. He let his shirt fall flat and stared down at his chest, at the subtle bump that protruded a little too far out compared to a cisgender man’s chest. Such a subtle thing felt so huge to him, regardless of his actual chest size, because he  _ knew _ they were there and he  _ knew _ that they made him that much more feminine. No matter how he tried to hide it, whether society called him by the proper pronouns or addressed him as “sir,” he was still tied to the anchor, the  _ body,  _ of a girl, drowning in the sea of dysphoria.

It was always the little things about his appearance that messed with him: slim waist, broad hips, curved jawline, plump breasts, and dainty fingers to name a few. He’d done his best to minimize the obvious features to make himself look gruffer, tougher, angular.

Masculine.

It was so hard to look masculine when the little things felt so huge in his head. Yes, he binded, he cut his hair, he wore boxers, he had a deeper voice due to T, and the clothes he wore made him look the part if no one was looking hard enough. However, he felt their gaze linger along his figure, judging him, mocking him, as he felt them find those tiny details that he told himself,  _ convinced  _ himself, that only he could see.

He was a boy. He passed. It wasn’t their business.

But why did it feel like they could see through the facade?

He shrieked when dust was kicked in his face and he coughed, trying to rid the course substance from his lungs. “Dib-stink, are you trying to spy on Zim?!”

Dib groaned as he spat out a loogie before turning to face Zim. The green bastard was dressed in a t-shirt and shorts too large for his tiny frame, and his skin seemed to shine in the sun from the amount of sunscreen and paste he lathered all over himself. He looked a little ridiculous, but he managed to actually look casual for once considering he ditched the Invader uniform.

“No, I’m not trying to. I’m just minding my own business,” he huffed, hugging his knees tighter.

Apparently, that wasn’t a good enough answer because the idiot proceeded to invade his line of sight. “The Dib always shows interest in Zim.”

Dib scowled, his upper lip twitching. That phrasing was horrible, but everything Zim said was phrased so horribly that it made him shake with rage about how the idiots around him couldn’t see how out of place Zim was. Even now, the white, hot ball of burning anger boiled in the pit of his abdomen and threatened to light his next words on fire. “Leave me alone, Zim. I’m not up for it today, so drop it.”

Zim stared at him a moment before his twisted lips curled into a smile. “So, this means you give up?”

Dib pushed him away with his feet. “Not giving up forever, just today, idiot.”

“But you’re giving up!”

“Not giving up—”

“Victory for Zim!”

“Shut up!” Dib leapt to his feet and yanked his towel up, flipping Zim onto his back. The little bug growled, his PAK whirring from the sudden weight of his lithe body being flung onto his back, but Dib merely smirked and threw the towel on top of him. “Victory for Dib.”

Zim flung the towel off his body and threw it back in a wad, which sent Dib to the ground gracelessly; it also sent sand in the most awkward places. He sputtered and sat up, dusting himself off and subtly trying to shake off the particles that managed to slip into his binder. When he finally rubbed his eyes and fixed his glasses, he looked over and found that Zim had set up his umbrella and towel right on top of his stuff.

“What the hell, Zim!” he exclaimed, shooting to his feet. “I was here first!”

“Yes, but you resigned your rights to this spot when you made Zim the victor, so get your stink-self a new spot! Ha!” He laughed maniacally as he shoved Dib over once more and proceeded to pull off his too-large shirt.

Dib muttered a string of curses as he got to his feet once again and gathered his umbrella and sand-coated towel. Dealing with Zim and his ridiculous bouts of pride, arrogance, and egoism was never Dib’s favorite part of dealing with the alien. Although, phrasing it like that made it seem like Dib  _ had  _ a favorite part when it came to his interactions with him. He rolled his eyes as he started to turn his back, but he stopped as he caught sight of Zim’s swimsuit. Dib figured Zim was already wearing it, but apparently the large clothing was covering his real swimsuit: a two-piece girls pink bikini, complete with fringe along the flat top and a frilly skirt for the bottom.

Dib’s eyes widened. “You’re a girl?”

Zim’s head snapped up from fixing the fringe. “Eh? No, of course not! Have you the brain worms? Zim is male!”

Dib looked up and down Zim’s frame closely, eying his high cheek bones and flat chest, the slight dip in his waist as it widened back out towards slender hips. “You don’t look male.”

“What’s wrong with Zim’s appearance, pig smelly?” Zim spat, baring his teeth. “Zim is very much male! Male just like you and all the other pathetic humans that crawl around on this stupid planet!”

“Men don’t wear bikinis, Zim,” Dib said, his face blank as he continued to study the alien’s posture.

“Zim wears what Zim pleases! And how are you saying such things when you won’t even take off your shirt?” he hissed, jabbing a finger at Dib.

“I don’t need to take off my shirt!” Dib snapped, jumping out of Zim’s range and turning his chest away. “Plenty of guys wear shirts when they go to the beach. It’s none of your business!”

Zim paused for a moment, surprised by his sudden defense. For a moment, Dib thought the bug would drop the conversation, but his heart sank as a dark smirk crept onto his face. “Does that make you uncomfortable, Dib-stink?” he asked, stepping towards him.

“N-No, of course it doesn’t,” he stammered, scrambling backwards.

Zim chuckled. “You lie. I can see it. So, why don’t you take off your shirt, Dib-thing?”

“What?!” Dib’s cheeks flushed crimson for more than one reason.

“You heard me. Take it o _ ff!” _ On the last word, Zim lunged at him, tackling him to the ground. The two rolled, tumbled, kicked, and punched as Dib tried desperately to keep him away from his chest. However, it only took one swift claw to rip away enough fabric and reveal his secret.

For a moment, the two were frozen, both of them staring at Dib’s binder like  _ it  _ was the alien. Dib could feel the discomfort, feel the  _ shame  _ prickling along his skin, like his insides wanted to rip him apart. Dib could breathe comfortably, but the longer Zim stared at the binder, the more he felt it constrict him, like the rope around the anchor was tightening around him and preparing to drag him deeper into dysphoria.

A long moment passed before Zim managed to tear his eyes away and narrow them into slits. “Why are you criticising Zim for wearing a bikini when you’re wearing one yourself?!”

“It’s not a bikini! It’s different!” Dib shot back, shoving the Irken off his waist and folding his arms over his chest. “Leave me alone!”

“Such a hypocrite you are, Dib-beast! Always looking to pick on Zim! Can’t handle it when it’s said back to you, eh?”

“Shut up!”

“What’s the matter, Dib? Is this upsetting you? Is The Dib afraid that he won’t look  _ male  _ because of it? Is he afraid people will look at him and say he’s a  _ girl? _ ”

“I’M NOT A GIRL!”

He was already drowning.

Dib’s ears rang, a constant buzz that crescendoed until he couldn’t even hear the crashing waves anymore. He covered his ears, wanting it to stop. It was too loud. Too piercing. He whimpered as the sand grew teeth and started swallowing him up. He panted desperately, trying to regain himself, but no air filled his lungs. His binder was too tight. The anchor was too heavy. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe!

A hand settled on his shoulder.

He flinched, nearly crawling away as his eyes followed the green hand all the way up to fake purple irises. Zim opened his mouth and said something, but the roaring in Dib’s ears was too loud. “What?” he gasped.

Zim spoke again, but again he couldn’t hear it.

“What?”

Zim lips curled into a small snarl as he forced Dib’s face close to his. He whimpered as he felt Zim’s lips graze his ear. “Zim never said you were a girl.”

Dib’s breath hitched. His mind swirled. The roaring stopped.

“Zim does not think you are a girl, Dib-thing,” Zim continued. “The Dib is The Dib, and you are male, and you should not be focused on what your society deems appropriate for a male to look and wear and instead focus on yourself. You are better than that.”

Then, just as quickly as Zim had spoken those words, he was on his feet and walking away, settling down on his towel and placing a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. Dib sucked in a breath. He stared at him, dumbfounded and pondering whether that exchange had actually happened or not. Zim kicked a leg into the air and rested the crook of his knee over the other, hands behind his head. He looked slender and petite and, oddly, pleasing, but not in the gross romantic way. No, Zim looked pleasing because he simply looked...nice. He looked comfortable and relaxed and confident and it nearly drove Dib to anger once again. It wasn’t fair how Zim could act so confident and comfortable within his own discolored skin while Dib felt like a stranger in his.

A pair of tourists walked by Dib and he didn’t miss the word they uttered under their breath. However, it’s harder to erase spoken words rather than written ones. Dib kneaded the hem of his swimming trunks, following the tourists with his eyes as they passed Zim. They gave him the same treatment. Although, because it was Zim, he got up and started screaming at them and they quickly ran off. Zim’s chest heaved as he sat down on his blanket with a visible huff, folding his arms and crossing his legs. He looked scruffy and feral, which was more like the Zim he knew, but he watched with confused eyes as Zim brought his knees to his chest and sifted sand between his fingers.

Dib couldn’t understand why Zim was so different today. He actually managed to look normal for once, yet he looked more out of place than ever with his green skin on display. He looked familiar and different all at once and it baffled him. But why did that matter? It was still Zim, the same old alien menace that Dib hated with a passion, yet not. Zim liked to mock him, Zim liked to judge him, Zim liked to tease him, but then he didn’t today—at least, not when it mattered.

And now his gaze lingered on him, judging him.

Dib’s gaze softened, and he found himself trudging over to Zim’s spot, his former spot. The alien growled under his breath as he approached, turning his head away and letting the sand fall to the wind. “What do you want, Dib-stink?”

For a moment, Dib didn’t say anything, though he could feel the words lodged in his throat, tangled and unsure how to present themselves. “You...look nice in that bathing suit...it suits you,” he mumbled, eye contact fleeting. “And...you shouldn’t care what they think, either.”

With that, Dib forced himself to look away as he grabbed his wadded up towel and laid it out along the sand a couple feet away from Zim. He set up his umbrella and took his place under the pitiful shade once again, hugging his knees to his chest. He snuck a glance back at Zim and found that he had laid back again, smiling softly; Dib hummed quietly. His eyes wandered over the rolling waves, the roar of the ocean spray crashing over the sand a reminder that he broke the surface. The anchor rope felt much looser now. He smiled.

He could breathe.

**Author's Note:**

> Check me out on social media!
> 
> [ My NSFW Twitter](https://twitter.com/EnbyDibBitch) Pretty please don't follow if you're under 18. I will look you up and block if I must.
> 
> [ My SFW Twitter](https://twitter.com/_Dramance)
> 
> [ My Tumblr](https://dramancewrite.tumblr.com/) Asks open!


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